


Easier, Still

by WhoopsOK



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Kinktober, M/M, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12234168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: "Sleeping in Steve’s bed is a new development, at least in this decade, but it’s one Bucky is grateful to experience."(Steve is sleepy and sweet; Bucky is willing to do the heavy lifting.)





	Easier, Still

**Author's Note:**

> So! I saw the post for Kinktober going around tumblr and decided to take a stab at it. 
> 
> October 1st, sleepy sex.

Every day that Bucky wakes up easy, he has to force himself not to make a tally mark on the wall.

Recently, good days aren’t so few and far between that he doesn’t recognize them, but he still finds himself coveting them. Today is an easy day where he wakes up with no nightmares to spur him to consciousness too early in the morning. The sun is up, barely, but the fact that it’s creeping through the curtain doesn’t prick his anxiety, doesn’t make him feel too visible. The window is locked and bullet proof; he is safe. More importantly, he feels as he turns to his side, Steve is safe.

Sleeping in Steve’s bed is a new development, at least in this decade, but it’s one Bucky is grateful to experience. The memories of _Before_ , of Steve’s tiny warmth and reedy breathing, then his impossible heat and a body bigger than Bucky’s are fuzzy and distant. He understands they happened, misses them abstractly, but they can’t mean as much to him as right now does. He thinks Steve is grateful for this development in his thought process.

Steve’s back is to him right now, sleeping half on his stomach and snoring slightly. He never sleeps without pajamas – Bucky thinks he wakes from nightmares of the cold more often than he cares to admit – but at some point in the middle of the night, he’d gotten warm and removed his shirt. Bucky resists the impulse to touch him for a few seconds before recalling Steve has told him that this private space, _their_ private space doesn’t have to be one of resisting loving touches. Bucky lets his hand trail lazily from Steve’s neck to the center of his shoulder blades, watching with a spreading warmth in his chest as Steve hardly shifts at all – _Bucky is safe, Steve is safe in Bucky’s presence._

Even as his hand travels lower, tracing the edge of Steve’s pajama pants, his breathing hardly stirs.

Steve pretty generally doesn’t bottom. This is a bit of knowledge that Bucky has had for some time now, has even experienced in the present day, but this is a good morning and sense memory slides easily to him.

_A room that was a touch too warm, a bed that was a touch too small, Steve half asleep and reaching back, whispering “C’mon, Buck,” then biting the pillow under his cheek as they came, came, came, Steve’s name and skin on Bucky’s lips._

Bucky doesn’t try to chase the memory, they never come when he chases them. Instead, he rolls closer to the present, pressing his chest along Steve’s back, putting a hand on his hip just under the elastic of his pajamas. “Steve?” he says, voice sleep rough and low.

Steve is awake instantly, but only barely, feeling no urgency or danger in the press of Bucky’s weight on his back. “Mm?” he hums drowsily.

Bucky kisses his shoulder, then his neck. “Stevie, you awake?”

Steve hums again. “Do I need t’ be?”

“No,” Bucky says slipping his hand fully into Steve’s pants, slowly over the curve of his ass, asking. Steve answers by pressing back with a curious little sound that goes directly to Bucky’s gut.

“You ‘onna take care’a me?” Steve slurs, relaxing into Bucky’s touch.

“Always,” Bucky says, leaning up to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth.

There’s lube in the bedside drawer, Bucky doesn’t even have to look to find it. Getting Steve’s pants off is a bit of a production, though, seeing as to how Steve has taken Bucky’s promise to take care of him as permission to doze unhelpfully. Though he does agreeably kick the discarded pants to the bottom of the bed once Bucky gets them past his knees.

Steve sighs into his pillow when Bucky presses one of his knees up closer to his side to give himself room between Steve’s legs. Stroking the back of Steve’s thigh absently, Bucky is struck by how comfortable he looks, as though he means to fall back asleep just like that, what Bucky does to him notwithstanding. He isn’t snoring, but his breath is coming out long and slow, head in the crook of his elbow, hair a mess and cheek pillow-pressed pink.

Bucky loves him like this, but also loves him so much he laughs when Steve squints back at him and mumbles, “Takin’ a picture or somethin’?”

“Shh,” Bucky says, spreading lube along the length of his fingers. He bites tenderly at the nape of Steve’s neck when he slicks him up before slipping inside. It isn’t a quick process, but Steve is relaxed and making happy sounds as Bucky works him open, mumbling sweet nonsense against his shoulder blades.

By the time Bucky has slicked his dick, Steve is sweating and babbling. “I’m ready, I’m ready, jeez, how much lube did you use? I’m so slick, c’mon, Buck, give it to me, I want it, please…”

Bucky shushes him again, but doesn’t deny Steve anything. Biting his lip, he presses against Steve’s wet hole, slipping inside with a slow press of his hips that seems to force Steve’s breath out all at once. “Yeah, Steve,” he whispers, hooking his leg up behind Steve’s as he presses into the tight heat of his ass.

Steve’s whimper hits like the softest sort of lightening, sparking up Bucky’s back as he bottoms out. He stays there, heavy on Steve’s back, hard inside him, until Steve can draw enough breath to say, “ _Please_.”

Of course, anything, anything.

His movements are lazy, but he thinks that’s how Steve likes it when he’s like this. The soft circling of his hips, a slow grind just missing his prostate as Steve shivers and gasps, one hand gripping the pillow under his cheek, the other reaching back to clutch tight at Bucky’s thigh.

“You want my hand, darlin’?” Bucky asks breathlessly, moving unsteadily with the tingling approach of an orgasm.

“Mm-mm,” Steve shakes his head, panting softly, grinding himself into the bed, “I-it’s eno-enough— _oh, oh_.”

Hearing the desperation fogging up Steve’s voice, Bucky jerks forward harder, rocking Steve further into the mattress until he goes stiff beneath him, tensing and— “ _Yeah, Stevie, just like that_ ,” Bucky groans as Steve twitches, moaning and spilling into the sheets, dragging Bucky’s orgasm right along behind him.

Some part of Bucky remembers having to move quickly after, to get off Steve, get him wrapped up, make sure he could breathe, _where’s his inhaler?_ But this is today, in which Steve is still an unrepentant cuddle slut and also a super soldier. Bucky lets his full weight rest on Steve’s back, pressing a sigh but no protest out of him as they lay together, sticky and catching their breath. Eventually, he pulls out when Steve pats his hip.

Steve’s face is an amusing combination of disgruntled and fucked-out when he twists to catch Bucky’s lips, “You owe me breakfast for that.”

“I did all the work, you loafer,” Bucky grumbles, but can’t help smiling against Steve’s mouth.

“Yeah, and now I have to do laundry,” Steve replies, matching his smile. “I want waffles.”

Bucky knows they would both find some humor in a teasing argument, something that would probably result in laughing and shoving and another broken lamp, but… today is an easy morning. Bucky is feeling soft and Steve is still sweet and sleepy looking, _happy_ looking. He doesn’t have to hoard happy moments, they come easier now – but he’s learning to allow himself to take the things he wants when he can. He decides he’s not done taking just yet.

With that thought, it’s easy, then, to pull Steve off the wet spot and roll so he’s resting on top of Bucky, wrapped loosely in his arms.

It’s easier, still, to relax under the weight when Steve just hums, kissing his throat, and stays there.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…try to get some rest, ok?


End file.
